


Bruised Violets

by Miasmajesty1



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemons, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 05:41:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5035993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miasmajesty1/pseuds/Miasmajesty1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Setting: Roadside Motel<br/>Trope: Daemons or physical soul representations in forms of animals<br/>Prompt: Watching someone sleep</p><p>BB and Ocelot go on a drive and end up at a motel. Pining occurs.<br/>Some time post MGSV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruised Violets

**Author's Note:**

> Now I've actually watched MGSV to the end this... doesn't really make sense.  
> It's Venom Snake, probably. Or an AU where Venom doesn't exist and BB sustains those injuries instead.

An unexpected detour and several corpses later, Ocelot figured this couldn't get much worse. They'd been forced into the side roads of a backwater town that neither of them recognised, and this roadside shoot-out was drawing far too much attention than they could afford. Not to mention the motorbike wasn't great at deflecting bullets. Plus, it was crowded.  
Motherbase had dubbed Boss' daemon as D-Dog. The name had stuck fast. Neither of them objected to it. Eventually, he had become DD. DD whined, his head resting against Boss' shoulder, squeezed inbetween the two human bodies.  
Ocelot and his Daemon's names were less defined. It was apt enough. The start had been similar. D-Cat, though they had objected since an Ocelot isn't just a cat. Then D-C as a shortened form, but it had ended up as CC. Truly, he didn't need to be called anything like DD. They were inseparable anyway. Currently, CC was curled around Ocelot's neck, paws kneading through the end of his scarf.

They rounded a corner at breakneck speed, bullets sparking at they missed their target. Ocelot reloaded his revolver and let a few bullets of his own fly. He could only spare a quick glance behind them- he had to focus on their path, lest he be thrown from the bike- but managed to hit regardless. One of the enemy bikes swerved wildly, smacking the hard earthen ground with a thud. Their bodies crunched as they were run over by their friends.  
"We can't keep this up forever," Ocelot gritted out, head ducked against the force of the wind and sand.  
To Ocelot's lack of surprise, the Boss said nothing.  
He didn't talk much these days. Ocelot tried not to let that bother him.  
It did still did though.  
Another shot, and this one was closer. Another sharp turn; Ocelot braced his arms tight to stop DD from falling from the bike, his grip on the Boss sharp enough to be felt even through his armour. Another quick glance- there was still enough of them to be a problem.  
"We have to lose them, now," Ocelot urged. DD's tail thumped against Ocelot's chest, which he took as a sign of agreement.  
"DD agrees," he added. Even over the roar of the engine and the snap of the wind, Ocelot heard the Boss' snort of laughter.  
Well, that was a nice change.  
The next bullet grazed Ocelot's arm. CC shrieked, far too close to Ocelot's ear. He grunted in pain, crimson trickling down the muted brown his jacket. The bike sped up. Switching the revolver to his other hand, he took the risk of leaning back against the bike to take the next few shots. Fortunately, they were headshots.

The pack was finally thinning out. Only a few strays now; a couple of jeeps, and three bikes. They'd strung their way through the winding streets of this ramshackle town and back into the highway, if it could be called that. More of a line of dirt than anything. Partially built up to let tanks through but broken by usage- it would be quite a bumpy ride. Ocelot hoped that perhaps the bikes would ditch them once they got there, but he didn't bet on it. Shooting out the tires would help. The drone of gunfire from the jeeps was getting old, even with the Boss' evasive manoeuvres. Two shots, and the jeeps were gone, their drivers cursing. Onto the highway and the bikes hadn't ditched them. In fact, they sped up until they edged closer and closer. Ocelot ducked as the shot came from his left. Boss rammed their attacker, the metal screeching as it connected. DD's head snapped up and his jaws closed around their assailant's neck. No time to even scream, Ocelot noted, as his throat was torn wide upon and the bike thrown on top of the slower one. Finally, they'd escaped.  
Ocelot let out a sigh he didn't know he'd been keeping in. He felt CC relax against him and the bike slowed to a halt. DD jumped down eagerly, shaking himself out and barking happily. Shifting back to make room for Boss to step off the bike, Ocelot rounded on his wound. It was just a scrape. He decidedly did not jump when he felt Boss' hand on his arm.  
"Is it bad?" he said, even more gravelly than usual from lack of use. Ocelot restrained himself from retorting that he could use his own eye to see it wasn't bad, because then they'd be getting into eye related guilt. Or puns. Plus, he realised, he was being nice. Probably.  
"No," Ocelot said after a pause.  
"Good," came the gruff reply. Hand withdrawn, Boss stood upright, turning to watch the bruised violet of the sunset. The sun going down was a double edged sword. They could keep going under the safety of darkness, tied into the risk of crashing from sleeping exhaustion, or they could stop for the night and risk getting caught. Caught by whom exactly; it didn't matter. There were enough groups out to get them that it was pointless to guess.

A roll of gauze later and jacket hastily shoved back on, they were ready to move. Curling smoke told him that Boss hasn't decided if they were going to move yet. DD had dug some snakes from the ground as they'd ventured out to seek prey. He dropped them at Ocelot's feet, mouth hanging open and eyes expectant. Ocelot glanced up from his perch on the bike to Boss, still facing away. The edges of his features were cast in a warm glow from the sun's dying rays. It was altogether too kind on his haggard features.  
Ocelot cursed the sun.  
CC dropped down onto the sand, looking disdainful. DD barked, play bowing to the wildcat. CC pretended not to notice, eyes cast upwards, but DD was having none of it. A few persuasive barks and playful nudges here and there, and the two danced around each other with wild abandon. Ocelot watched as their daemons played, not so much oblivious to the danger but not letting it keep them down. He wished he could say the same thing for their human counterparts. Still, nothing would change if they didn't. Standing up, he joined Boss' side. Smoke curled around him, it's acrid smell familiar. They stood in silence until Boss offered the cigar over, expression oddly soft. Contemplative, Ocelot decided, that's what it was. He took it with a nod of gratitude. He didn't smoke, but what did that matter.  
"We need to stop and rest," Boss said as the sun finally gave up.  
"Right," Ocelot said, breathing out smoke. "Where?" he asked, as if Boss knew.  
"Wherever," came the response.  
"Right," Ocelot repeated, handed the cigar back. With a wave of his hand, CC leapt back up onto his shoulders. Boss slung himself back onto the bike, nodding at DD who barked in response.  
"Think you can keep up?" he said. DD shook himself out again, spinning in a circle with excitement. The air had cooled significantly now. The desert was a finicky thing. Ocelot pulled his scarf tighter as the bike groaned back to life, kicking dust as it sped back forward.

Ocelot didn't even remember slipping out of consciousness, but his waking dreams were filled with blood and metal and dead snakes. He jerked awake, taking in where he was. Still on the bike, resting against Boss' shoulder. A jolt of embarrassment, hot as lightning went through him, but he forced himself to stay still. Boss would have picked up on his change in breathing anyway.  
"Are we going to stop soon?" Ocelot forced himself to ask, words a little slurred. He flushed despite himself, but didn't move.  
"There's a motel up ahead," Boss replied, partially illuminated by the electronic light of his map. Ocelot hummed, his hand going to CC's fur but finding that he had moved. He looked at his lap, and behind him, and to the side where DD continued to keep pace with them. A little freaked, he opened his mouth to query when he noticed the flick of a tail in Boss' lap. He couldn't pin if this embarrassed him more than falling asleep. It was intimate, that was for sure.  
"It's fine," Boss said, as if reading his thoughts. He turned, his good eye looking back at his companion. Ocelot refused to answer. "You weren't asleep long," he continued, voice disproportionately loud against the quiet of the twilight. Ocelot continued his refusal, but also didn't move from his spot. Shoulder pressed against shoulder, he would be lying if he said it was for warmth. Though it was also for warmth. He deigned himself to close his eyes again. He should keep watch, but DD would warn them before Ocelot could. It was fine.

It felt like a long time before the pulled up to the motel, though it couldn't have been more than an hour. Driving through the scrub and the desert had a way of making time slow. Or, making time irrelevant. It was a 24 hour deal, less seedy than genuinely run down. They paid more than was needed for silence, and left the bike away from the rest of the transport. They weren't easy to track, but they were easy to spot. Both of them were easily recognisable. The room was crappy, but it had a bathroom and a bed. A single bed, Ocelot noted. Of course he wouldn't think about that. He wouldn't complain. It seemed pointless to shower, as they'd have to put their old clothes back on, but they did regardless. Boss insisted Ocelot go first to clean his bullet wound- which wasn't really a bullet wound, but he wanted to wake up some more, so he went first. The water was cold and grimy, and he felt his mind sharpen, if a little begrudgingly. They swapped places and Ocelot watched as DD collapsed in a haphazard pile; facing the door, he noted; with CC taking the space in-between his paws. Safe and secure. Ocelot tried and failed to ignore how he felt a pang in his chest.

It really was the middle of the night now. They wouldn't be able to sleep for long. Without ceremony or communication, they'd taken the bed together; there was no sofa after all; and after realising it was too small for both of them, Ocelot had decided to stand guard. It was a mostly pointless task. Boss knew this.  
"This is no time for your pride, Ocelot," he grumbled, his eye dark. There was heating in this motel, surprisingly enough, and he pulled his armour off with little grace. He didn't ask for help and Ocelot didn't offer any.  
"It's nothing to do with pride," he said. This was mostly true. "I've already slept. I'm just making sure no one followed us, I'll join you once I'm sure," he said. This was a lie. He knew no one had followed them. Boss grunted, too tired to argue, or perhaps knowing there was no point to it. He was asleep within minutes, the slow rise and fall of his chest giving him away. The moonlight was not as kind as the sunset had been. It's yellow-white light was softened through the open window, but it caught on every scar and stark sinew of his battered body. He had removed his eyepatch as he undressed and though his eyes were closed, there were thin lines radiating away from the blind one. Ocelot studied them, and tried to bring himself to regret his younger self's confidence.  
He didn't.  
He studied where his bionic arm attached. Further up than were it was severed as to anchor it properly, but he could imagine well enough. A mangled mess, tied up at neatly as was possible, but still lost. He thought about an alternative path, where he had been on mother base too. Where there was a warning, a tip. Where their world had not been plunged into hell. He tried to imagine it.  
He couldn't.  
For all that had happened, he couldn't see anything but what was before him. A man he had once idolised had become someone real. Tangible enough to touch, to feel bad, to do wrong just as easily as right. They weren't equals, far from it, but he was a real person now. A real person who could die.  
The thought sat uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. Standing from the rickety chair he'd perched on, he looked out the window, out into the distance. Then, he looked back. The Boss slept peacefully enough. Light on his feet, Ocelot slipped over to the side of the bed, as close as he dared to be. Close enough to feel the body heat coming from him. Reaching out, his hand ghosted across the Boss' arm and down to where he'd slung his hand down, fingers tracing the carpet. He longed to do something- anything. Nothing as terrible as what he had imagined as a boy. Or as provocative. The world had not be kind to the man once called Snake. It had been irreversibly cruel and had turned him into someone else. No, he had evolved into someone else. Ocelot let his hand drift next to with the Boss', but only with the lightest of touches. He felt like a ghost, or a phantom, or a dead man. Of course, his wish would be granted if he just slept next to him. It had been offered with no fuss. No matter what, that was fine. He could sleep next to him, if he wanted. But it wouldn't be enough. Nothing could ever be enough. Ocelot knew this to be true. Revealing himself as much as he dared, he knelt down, and interlocked their fingers. Slowly, carefully, he brought the his remaining hand up to his lips. Never taking his eyes away from the Boss' closed ones, he pressed his lips against it. If he remember this, it would be only be a dream. An echo of an echo. And that was fine. Gently, he released his hand and straightened up. The Boss turned in his sleep, closed off for now. Ocelot closed his eyes and breathed out, low and quiet. The sun would rise soon enough. He could sleep on the back of the bike again if need be. Let the sun rise. It would get better.


End file.
